Polar Eidetic
by MindlessRiddle
Summary: What if Rose could never make Tentoo better? And all of his fire and ice and rage made him not so wonderful, and he aimed it all at the one person he could — The Doctor. Set shortly after Journey's End; sequel to "Go to Hell" by Superwholockedhobbit on Fanfiction. Doctor Whump, obviously.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter****1: What The Doctor Fears**

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for a bit longer, Doctor?" Jack asked.

The Doctor had just saved the precious human's Earth yet again—with the help of Torchwood this time. Cybermen it'd been. Torchwood had been outnumbered and outgunned, so Jack had decided to call the Doctor. The Doctor had gladly accepted, though he was a bit reluctant to trust Torchwood, considering their history with him. But he knew he could trust Jack Harkness, couldn't he?

In the end, the crisis had been averted and the world, namely Cardiff, was safe once again because of the last of the Time Lords.

Jack stared at the Doctor silently, contemplating what he was thinking; behind those deep, brown eyes.

The Doctor seemed to consider it for a moment, but quickly brushed it off.

"Nah," the Doctor said with his usual smile, "Plenty of things to be done, saving the human race—you humans always seem to need me. Busy life, last of the Time Lords."

"Yes, well, take care of yourself, Doc." Jack could see the exhaustion behind the Time Lord's eyes, but knew better than to keep him in one place for too long—the Doctor hated the feeling of being trapped.

"No need to worry about me, Jack. I'm always alright."

The pain in his eyes betrayed him.

"Yes, well, must be off. Allons-y!"

The Doctor shut the door to the Tardis before Jack had the chance to reply.

"Goodbye...Doctor," Jack muttered to himself.

As the Tardis dematerialized, Jack knew that something was very wrong with the Doctor.

The Doctor entered the Tardis, subconsciously forgetting to throw his brown overcoat onto the branch like he usually did. He ran to the console, pressing buttons and pulling levers, setting the coordinates to the time vortex. He sighed, leaning against the Tardis' wall, in thought. For once, the Doctor didn't have a destination in mind to go to. In truth, he was lost.

"Lonely, _Theta_?"

The Doctor's eyes darted quickly up to the Tardis doors in the direction of the voice, for them to rest upon the last thing he expected. Himself. The Doctor lifted his head up from resting on the wall. He remained silent.

"Though, one would expect that to be the case, as often as you run. Stopped having companions after journey's end—'too dangerous.' Right, Doctor? Does it break your hearts to watch someone not quite you, yet too much like yourself kiss your precious _Rose Tyler_?" the impostor spoke the name too much like his own voice, but in a way that didn't suit the Doctor.

"How're you here?" the Doctor asked, changing the subject, "Where's Rose?"

"Vortex manipulator, don't pretend you're not clever." he answered.

"How'd you get your hands on one? And don't tell me that there's a Captain Jack Harkness in that universe as well." The Doctor seriously doubted that any version of the Captain would just hand over his manipulator to anyone, even himself.

"We have our ways, right, Doctor?" he teased.

The Doctor glared.

"Oh, please. Don't try the whole 'boring my eyes into your very soul' look. It doesn't work on yourself," regardless, he answered, "Let's just say I _'borrowed'_ it from a certain River Song."

"_Borrowed_? River? More importantly, why would you need a vortex manipulator? I gave you and Rose a Tardis coral to grow your own." The Doctor recalled.

"Yes, well, _Tardis'_ are stubborn creatures, they don't always obey," he spoke the word as if it had a foul taste on his tongue.

"Of course they don't, that's what makes them _alive_." The Doctor was beginning to not like this version of himself very well.

"Precisely the point. Machines are meant to be programmed, to be _controlled_. Not to disobey their pilot because of emotions." That didn't sound at all like the Doctor.

"The Time Lords didn't build Tardis' to be controlled, they were meant to be sentient for a reason, and not for submission. We know that." The Doctor explained.

"And what would you know of the Time Lords? They're all _gone_, remember?" the impostor had found where it hurt. And he knew it.

The Doctor's eyes looked to the ground, far away, lost in a nightmare. In pain.

So he poked at the wound, "'There was a war.' The planet burned to ash. _Billions_ dead, and who better to push the button than the pacifist?"

The Doctor stepped back, shook his head, and choked, "No."

"Yes, _oh_ yes," he said quietly, stepping forward, and continued, "All of them, burning; all to hell. _Damned_."

The Doctor stepped back again, tears almost in his eyes, "Stop it."

"And it's all," the other 'Doctor' reached out with his right hand to the Doctor's head, stepping closer, making the Doctor step back into the wall.

"Where's Rose?" The Doctor tried to shrink away from the hand.

"Your."

"What've you done to _Rose Tyler_?" The Doctor tried in one last pathetic plea to change the subject.

"_Fault_!" The meta crisis placed both hands on either sides of the Doctor's head.

The Doctor screamed in pain and entered his nightmare.

The Doctor was on Gallifrey, and it _hurt._

The Doctor clutched his head, feeling every Time Lord psychic connection being ripped from his mind, and the comfort of others in his mind left him. Alone, and quiet in his head. Like the day it had happened.

The Doctor couldn't help but fall to the ash filled ground, curling into a ball, and began to cry quietly to himself, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, _so _sorry."

And on that day, he had never been truly sorrier.

_ No one's ever seen you cry_, he heard his own voice say though it wasn't him. But he couldn't tell the difference,_ I can. I can make you __**bawl**__, like the _lonely _child you are. I can make you __**hurt**__. You're not invincible, no. You're __**weak**__. And you need love._ _So,_ so _bad. But you're too afraid to ask for it._

The Doctor was shivering, though his head was actually burning. With every word.

"I'm sorry," was the only thought he could process, because it was always there, in the back of his dark mind. The Doctor was _always_ sorry.

_ Because deep down, in your empty hearts, you think you don't deserve it. And it would only take one so much to push you over the edge. And I'm that one._

Pain coursed through his every being, but nothing could compare to when the scene of Gallifrey changed rapidly through everything he had ever regretted or been sorry for. Everyone who had ever died for him. Every nightmare. People who he had let get too close. Who he had loved.

_ It's like how Timothy Latimer said, you're like __**fire**__, Doctor. Anyone who cares or loves you, when they get too close, they burn. But you're not wonderful. And that's why the one thing the Doctor fears..._

_ Is_ **himself**.

Fear raced through his hearts as he woke up to the image of himself above his own form, who reached out to move his trembling hands from his head, so the other 'Doctor' could reach to his chest, towards his left, franticly beating heart.

But he let him and whimpered through each shake his body made because of his silent crying, "I'm sorry."

The copy looked straight at the other's brown terror filled eyes and whispered cruelly into his ear as he touched the heart, "I know."

His left heart stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Broken Beyond Repair**

The Doctor awoke to a headache and a sick feeling in his stomach, though it felt more like dry heaving in his empty stomach. His head was drowsy from blood loss, and everything ached. The worst of it was his chest, with one beating heart, the other hadn't beat in a long time. It made him wonder how _they_ had managed to keep him alive for so long.

He slowly attempted to open his eyes, but only got a blurry, too bright blob and immediately closed them. The Doctor couldn't hear the humming, his ears were ringing as well, but would know his Tardis anywhere.

The Doctor had barely managed to force himself to hardly limp into the Tardis and escape hell only minutes ago. Shortly after, the Tardis could tell that the weak Time Lord was hardly managing to breathe air into his lungs without a coughing fit, let alone fly her. So she flew for him, not bothering to psychically ask because she knew his mental state and barriers had crumbled to the point where he wouldn't be able to protest.

The Doctor had been holding onto the Tardis railing near the console for support, unable to stand up by himself anymore. But he soon began coughing and slowly sank to the floor.

_I can't,_ the Doctor managed mentally to the Tardis, rendered audibly mute.

_It's alright_, she tried to soothe his racing mind and heart, sending him Vortex energy only a Time Lord and Tardis could share. It was supposed to help him rest during the ride, but the Doctor's mind seemed un-tamable and refused to submit willingly. His mind was going to exhaust itself.

He was in a kneeling position and his bony hands couldn't hang on. They let go against the Doctor's wishes, and his body curled into a fatal position. His head was burning, _probably from a fever_, the Tardis thought, yet the blood loss made his body feel sickly cold.

The turmoil of the temperatures added to the throw up-like feeling in his stomach, and his body refused to even produce the escape of bile.

_ You need to rest,__Theta. The suffering will only worsen, you've been so strong and brave. But you need to recover your physical and mental health. And sleep will help with both_, she asked, hating to see her pilot prolong his own suffering. She hated to see him hurt.

_Can't._ Was all he said.

He was exhausted, she knew. He hadn't slept in months, the Master and the Other Doctor had made sure of it. The Tardis knew Time Lords could go long without sleep or even a kip beyond most beings but knew the Doctor had well exceeded his limits. It wasn't healthy.

_The nightmares won't come, I promise. It'll be dreamless, no pain_. She coaxed.

_No pain?_He asked, after not knowing mercy for so long.

_No pain, Doctor._She assured softly.

_Why?_

Why? The question had really made the Tardis worried for her Doctor now. Did he not think he deserved it? She really needed to get him to his family, his companions were the closest thing.

_Sleep_, she just told him kindly, knowing he needed it more than answers.

It worried her that he didn't protest, and shut his eyes quickly, as if afraid if he didn't obey. He wasn't an animal, and no being should be controlled like that. He was tamed, on a short leash that he was pulling himself. He was gone from that god forsaken place, yet he continued to let even a object, though albeit sentient, order him around. And the Doctor was untamable. But she feared they had broken him in ways no one could fix.

She watched him struggle to sleep, eyes tightly shut, and he shook with silent sobs and tears because he struggled to make himself rest. Unable to watch him whimper in pain, she gave the Doctor a mental sedative, and he finally succumbed to sleep. Though he didn't look at peace. The Tardis flew quietly in the Vortex on the way to Earth.

One last thought crossed the Tardis' mind as she watched over the Doctor, _What if he didn't want to be fixed?_

**+¤×¤+||•****》**

Jack leaned against his desk chair in boredom, feet on the desk, taking a sip of his dark coffee. Nothing interesting seemed to be going on with the rift today, which was odd. Torchwood was having a slow day today. Gwen, Tosh, and Owen had gone out for Chinese. As Jack had told them to, they had been working extremely hard this week, and he had thought they deserved a break. But evil never takes a holiday, so Jack had offered to stay behind with Ianto to monitor the rift.

"More coffee, sir?" Ianto asked the Captain.

"Nah. This cup of Joe is still halfway full and warm. Perfectly caffeinated for me, thanks."

Just as Ianto was about to grin back at him, the screen on Jack's computer started beeping. Something had come through the rift.

"I knew it, they can never give the Earth a day without chaos," Jack told the computer as he clicked for it to show him the cameras, "Let's see, who is it this time. Slitheen? Weevils? Daleks, even?"

Ianto frowned when all he saw was a blue Police Public Call Box dematerialize on the screen, "A blue...box?"

But this wasn't a disappointment to Jack, "Oh, that's no box." Jack grinned.

"How do we defeat it, then?" Ianto asked.

Jack shrugged on his blue overcoat, "No need. Friends of mine, don't even carry weapons."

"You have alien friends that don't want to remotely kill you?" Ianto asked in disbelief.

**+¤×¤+||•****》**

"So, your friend got a name?" Ianto asked as they made their way to the Tardis.

"The Doctor." Jack answered simply.

"Strange name..."

Jack shrugged, "I was called The Face of Boe, once."

Just then, they were at the Tardis doors.

"Odd of him to not have come out yet. Come on, Doctor, we know you're in there," Jack knocked softly to not hurt the Tardis, but loud enough for anyone inside to hear.

Jack waited a few moments before knocking again.

Then once more.

Jack was worried, then put his hand on the door, and was about to put his ear to it to listen when he noticed he had opened the door. It had been unlocked. The Doctor didn't leave the Tardis unlocked.

The Captain stepped into the Tardis, along with Ianto. It was dark, with little glows here and there the only illumination in the ship. Then the Tardis turned the lights on.

The Doctor had blood everywhere, bruises, what looked like a broken right arm clutched to his chest protectively, and he was covered with dirt. Jack could barely see the obviously painful slow, short gasped of breaths the Doctor took. The worst of it was the sad expression on his face.

"I'll call Owen," Ianto took out his phone to call, leaving Jack alone with the Doctor.

"Doctor?" Jack touched the Doctor's shoulder gently, only to realize the Time Lord was trembling.

_Please don't wake him, Jack. I only just got him to sleep._ The Tardis requested to the immortal man.

"What happened to him, old girl?" The Captain asked quieter, concerned to know what or whom had caused his friend to become so hurt.

_He's been through a lot, lately. Once everyone left him after Davros he was lonely and the nightmares came back,_She told Jack sadly.

"I'm sorry, we should have known better than to leave him by himself. I, especially, I know what it's like to feel alone," Jack apologized, with guilt in his voice.

_It wasn't your fault, none of us knew how fragile he was at the time. I know you wouldn't ever do anything to hurt him. But_ they _would. They knew it left him vulnerable._ She continued.

Jack felt the human curiosity to ask who, but knew better. If the Tardis wanted him to know, she'd tell him. Or she'd wait until the Doctor was well, so that Jack wouldn't feel obligated to go on a revenge mission when the Doctor was the one needing his attention.

_ They knew how to hurt him...how to_break _him. They_tortured _him!__Invaded his mind, oppressed his fears. And his regret, they knew it was there in the back of his mind. So they brought it all back and crashed it on top of him, like the storm they believed he was._

Jack looked to the Doctor's bloody form, it didn't even look like him. He wanted to kill whoever did this, even if the Doctor didn't agree. Some things are unforgivable.

_And then..._ She paused, _almost unable to continue, they beat him until he believed it was all his fault. It only took them three days._

Jack was shocked at this. The Doctor would never submit to anyone, in his right mind. Either the Doctor really had been vulnerable, or these people knew things, dark secrets only the Doctor knew. Subjects that should never surface in his mind.

"How do we help him, what do I need to do?" Jack asked, eager to assist to help his friend recover.

_ Just make sure he doesn't over exert himself. And the healing process would probably speed up if you had him get some sleep. And unforced, if you can help it._

"Okay Doctor, time to spend some quality time with Jack and company." Jack carefully picked the Doctor up like a child, head resting on his shoulder, to carry him to Torchwood.

Jack realized the Doctor was much lighter than usual, and when he went to put the Doctor's arm around his neck, he realized his hands were ice cold, even colder than a normal Time Lord. And when he felt for a pulse, he found that only one faint heartbeat.

"Oh Doctor, what have they done to you?" Jack asked somberly to himself.

He sighed and as he closed the door to the Tardis, he thanked her, "Thank you for taking care of him until we got to him."

**+¤×¤+||•****》**

Jack noticed that Ianto was already in the driver seat of the car. He must have brought it by while they had been in the Tardis.

He smiled slightly at Ianto in thanks, and laid the Doctor down carefully in the backseat before he got in the backseat as well, resting the Doctor's head on his lap like a pillow.

All throughout the short drive, Jack stroked the Doctor's brown hair comfortingly, hoping to show the Doctor he was with friends. Jack sincerely hoped they'd be able to help the old Time Lord.

**+¤×¤+||•****》**

Ianto helped Jack carry the Doctor into the Torchwood building. They put him in Jack's bed to rest until Owen got there. Just then Mickey and Martha arrived back from their Sontaran mission with Unit. Torchwood and Unit had been working together for the past month, so Jack had offered for them to stay.

"Back so soon?" Jack asked, just exiting his room with Ianto.

"Yeah, was pretty easy, sir." Mickey answered.

"Oh my god." Martha exclaimed, "Is that..." She pushed passed Jack and Ianto into Jack's room to the sleeping form of the Doctor.

"Yes. Lucky for him we were able to get into the Tardis. Couldn't tell much, not a doctor here. But I'm pretty sure he could use some TLC." The Captain told Martha.

"We're just waiting for Owen to get here to get started on pain killers, the ones that are safe for Time Lords, of course." Jack furthered, as the group looked at the alien before them, and Martha stroked the Doctor's thick hair, like Jack did.

"Brilliant then," Mickey pointed out, "Now we got two doctors to work on him."

"Mickey's right, I'll start a drip," Martha left the room to go and get the supplies.

"Thought you said we had to wait for Owen?" Ianto asked his Captain after Martha came back, and was now preparing the needle.

"It's only to hydrate him, and give him bare nutrients," Jack replied.

"Good idea. Who knows how long he went without food or water?" Mickey added.

"Martha, you alright?" Ianto asked the doctor, noticing her struggle with the needle.

"Wouldn't want to worry you..." Martha hesitated but noticed Jack's glare to continue anyway, "His wrist is too thin, I'm worried I might nick a vein or bone even. It's hard to find enough skin- ah, here." Martha finally found a safe spot to puncture without too much of a risk.

Everyone heard a phone ring, as Ianto reached into his pocket and looked at the caller ID, "It's Owen."

Ianto looked at Jack for approval and Jack nodded, "Better take it. We'll be alright."

With that, Ianto closed the door behind him as he left the room.

"Oh. I just remembered. Cybermen in Cardiff," Mickey recalled his mission Martha and him had received that morning.

Martha was about to get up when Mickey shook his head, "No. Someone with a medical degree has to take care of him until Owen gets here."

Martha kissed him briefly, "Thank you."

Mickey left.

"Never thought I'd be sad to have everyone leave my bedroom. Well, now it's just you, me, and the Doctor," Jack said with an innuendo.

"Don't get any ideas, Jack Harkness. We got a life to save and I'm married."

Jack feigned a hurt look.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Doctors Make Bad Patients**

Ianto returned briefly forty minutes later to notify Jack and Martha that Owen had secretly gone on a mission way out in Canada without the Captain's consent instead of going to dinner thirty miles away and wouldn't be home until tomorrow afternoon. Jack would have been upset if Martha hadn't told him that the Doctor would be alright, considering his healing rate, and she believed their current issue was healing his hearts that had been broken too many times before.

Martha had gotten started on cleaning the Doctor's wounds and examining him for fractures and breaks. In the process she had discovered that he had a mild concussion, broken five ribs, broken his left arm, sprained his right ankle in several places, been extremely malnourished, and suffered severe blood loss. She had gotten Jack's help with getting the Doctor into more comfortable clothes, and his suit was currently being cleaned.

His chest was covered only with bruises and gauze, and his left arm had been wrapped and supported by a blue and white sling. Martha had also borrowed Jack's grey sweatpants for the Doctor and expected them to be a bit big, but the clothes practically hung off of him. If he didn't wake up soon, when Owen got there they'd have to force-feed him, or Martha was worried he'd eventually drown in the sheets from being too lean.

Once she was done, Martha looked at the clock and realized it was now eight - o'clock.

Jack walked into the room, "You look tired, thanks for patching up the Doctor, but you look tired as hell. I can look after him, I am immortal, not much sleep required."

Martha smiled tiredly at him, then closed the door behind her, "Thank you, Jack."

The Captain sat down on the wooden chair next to the bed with the Doctor in it. He hoped he'd wake up soon.

_2:00 AM_

Jack heard a faint sniffling, he looked to the Doctor as the sniffles became sobs and tears began to fall.

The Doctor was crying.

As he stood up, the Doctor began to shake and mumble intelligible words that he began to assume were Gallifreyan. The Tardis' mental medicine to fight the nightmares was wearing off, leaving him open to dark thoughts. The Time Lord then grabbed a pillow weakly with his IV hand. He wanted to hold something that wouldn't hurt him or run away. He needed love.

Jack moved onto the side of the bed and put his head against his chest carefully, and stroked his spiky brown hair for the second time that day. He didn't mind, though. The Doctor managed to calm down a bit, tears still fell and he whimpered, but the comfort had helped. Jack held him for the rest of the night.

The Doctor awoke slowly, vision hazy, and ears ringing with a terrible headache. Had they drugged him again? He also realized he was lying in something soft and white—a bed. He hadn't slept in one since...oh. He was dreaming again. Or maybe the Doctor had come up with a drug that forced him to sleep, turning dreams to nightmares. The Doctor couldn't remember when he'd last had a nightmare-less rest.

Two people walked in, their faces blurry, at first—then slowly came into focus. Jack and Martha. They said something, but he couldn't hear it over the ringing.

_They hate you_, his conscience said.

Martha said something, with a tube in her hand, as Jack carefully held him down.

They were going to force-feed him.

_Aspirin_, his voice in his head told him, _They're going to put you down._

He was going to gasp when he realized he couldn't breathe on his own. Panic rose in his chest.

_You didn't listen to your masters, and now they're going to pump you full of aspirin,_ the ringing grew louder and the headache worsened.

Martha grew closer with the tube, and the Doctor began to shiver with fear.

Jack felt it and the Doctor barely heard, "It's okay," and put his hand to the Doctor's head.

Before he could do anymore, the Doctor flinched, closing his eyes tightly shut. He knew pain came next, but knew what happened when he resisted.

_ That's it, good boy. Let them take care of you,_ he heard.

The Doctor opened his eyes a slit, and looked at them one last time, eyes begging them not to.

_They hate you,_ the voice, he realized now was his own said.

His eyes slammed shut again.

His working heart broke, as Jack held him down and the people he loved shoved the tube down his throat.

The headache exploded, his ears felt like they bled, and everything faded black.

_"Oh my god."_

_ "Doctor?"_

_ "I'm so sorry, but we had to."_

_ "What happened?"_

_ "I think he went into shock."_

_ "Doctor, wake up."_

_ "It's alright."_

_ "Please wake up."_

_ "Doctor?"_

_ "Doctor."_

"Doctor!"

He was becoming conscious again, though he wished he didn't ever have to wake up. The real nightmare was life. They'd hurt him again. Why couldn't he just die already?

"I'm sorry. We'll never do that with you conscious again," the voice was unusually nice.

His eyes opened. Light and colour overwhelmed him, so he closed them again. He tried again, and again, until he finally managed to lift his eyelids again, everything was blurry.

"You don't have to wake up yet, we know you're okay now." It was Jack's voice.

The Time Lord knew better, he'd be punished if he didn't listen. He forced his eyes into focus, and into consciousness. Jack didn't look mad. Why wasn't he mad?

"There we go, big and brown," The Captain was happy to see the Doctor's eyes again, "It's been seven hours since we force-fed you. We really didn't want to, but you'd starve if we didn't feed you. And you weren't in any condition to eat."

The Doctor was actually use to being fed through a tube, his other self and the Master wanted to keep him alive, but just barely.

"But that was five in the morning, you're probably starving now. Martha said it's not good to eat that way, we should try to get something into your stomach."

Jack reached for a bowl on the table, "Ianto was decent enough to make some soup," he joked.

The Doctor looked at the soup, hungrily. It looked like gold, to him.

_No_, the voice commanded.

The Doctor knew it was a test. He had to receive nutrients through a tube or needle.

_ "You can't handle normal food, your stomach's too weak. You're_ alien, _you don't deserve to be any more than hungry,"_ The other him had told him, the _real_ Doctor.

He had two hearts, he was different, too _alien_ to be associated with them.

"Please, Doctor. I won't shove it down your throat for you."

He remembered that had happened once, when they were making his body rid of all the extra nutrients he didn't need through bile. But the Doctor had made it clear, that he would never take a bite again.

He made himself look away, but the hunger remained.

He looked at his right hand, an IV was attached to it. It actually caused him pain, even needles could hurt him now. He loathed how fragile he was.

Even his bone density had deteriorated to dangerous levels, that's why his arm had broken so easily. He hated himself.

"Okay," the Captain set the bowl down and sighed, "I won't make you."

The bowl was sat down a tad too loudly. It hurt his ears, his Time Lord psych could tell Jack was frustrated with him. He covered his ears with his IV injected, and broken arm (which no longer was in a sling, Martha had removed it to help him sleep).

_Why can't you be less like glass, any little thing can shatter you._

Then he tugged at his hair, hard in penance. He tugged harder. And harder, until a tear slid down his face.

"Doctor? Hey, it's okay," Jack tried to soothe him.

It only made him tug harder, and his heart rate went up.

"Stop," he grabbed his broken wrist, which was tugging the hardest, and pulled it away forcefully.

The Doctor stopped, and looked at Jack, his arm went limp.

He could tell what the Doctor was thinking.

_He thought I'd break it more._

Jack immediately let go, and left the room.

The Doctor pulled the arm close to his chest and fell unconscious again.

Martha had encouraged him to get up for a bit because although his right ankle was sprained, it was pretty much healed due to his Time Lord healing and his legs weren't broken. Plus after what Jack had told her, she was scared to leave him alone with all those needles around. And since Jack couldn't get him to eat, she'd decided to try again at dinner.

She still had the IV in though, and asked the Doctor to push around his intravenous fluids stand. The Doctor could breathe on his own again, so they took the respirator out, along with the intubation. Which, surprisingly, the Doctor didn't protest to. She handed him a white shirt, which he put on slowly over the bandages on his chest. She noticed him rub his arms slowly like someone did when they were cold, so she also gave him a thin, brown pinstriped jacket.

Martha also realized the way he held the broken wrist to his side, to protect it. She asked him for it, and he complied, too quickly for her liking. She unwrapped it to examine, and the second he saw it he looked away. But not in disgust—in shame.

It was bruised, and of course broken. She thought she noticed little horizontal cuts on it, but didn't pay much attention. She sterilized it again quickly, which he didn't like, but said nothing. She wrapped it again, then put his arm back in its sling to heal. She also added antibiotics to the drip.

All the while he hadn't said a word, like he was mute.

"We miss your voice—Jack and I. It's so kind and energetic, yet compassionate and sincere. And your smile could make anyone happy. Now it's like you've gone mute. And you've got this look, like you aren't happy with yourself." She told him, trying to get him to say something. Anything.

"Contrary to whatever they told you, you are wonderful, Doctor. People care about you all over the universe. There are some that only live and breathe because you saved them. But now I think it's us that have to save you...from yourself," She let go of the sling, now that she'd adjusted it.

Martha left the room, and the Doctor followed, giving his five foot space between her. He wasn't allowed to be too close to anyone.

They joined Jack in what looked like a living room, and Martha sat down with Jack on the couch.

"I'm sure you're tired, you can sit down if you like," Jack tried nicely.

The Doctor sat down, and though there was plenty of room on the couch, he sat on the recliner chair adjacent to it slowly. He noticed the books on the small table with the lamp, next to the chair. He hadn't read one in 3 years.

"You can read one, if you want," Martha offered.

The Doctor hadn't come across books with the Master and Doctor, so he didn't know if he was allowed to read one or not. He supposed since Martha had given him permission he could, they were in charge of him now.

The Doctor picked one up, carefully, like it was sacred, and read it as best as he could with one hand.

Martha and Jack watched him, still worried.

"How come he won't just sit with us?" Martha asked Jack quietly.

"I saw the way he kept about a meter of personal space between you and him when he followed you. I don't think he thinks he's allowed to be close to people," Jack explained.

"'People'? Like, he's not a person? He's a living, breathing, person too. He's not below that," Martha objected.

"I don't think he knows that. I don't think he even thinks he's wanted."

"Doctor, come here, honey," Martha asked.

The Doctor obeyed, carrying his book and IV stand in the same hand, a finger inside to keep his page.

Martha gestured for him to sit on the coffee table in front of her.

She took his right hand and placed it over his right heart and panic arose.

_Was she going to stop that heart too?_

Martha felt his heartbeat rise, "Do you feel that?"

He looked at his chest and nodded, only one heart was beating. Time Lords were supposed to have both, and he didn't even feel human because it was the right heart that beat. He felt so different from everyone else.

"Only people have heart. You breathe, dream, feel, and hurt. Doctor, you're a person, not an object or anything less. Understand?" Martha tried to get him to believe.

_They're lying to you._

He looked at her, confused.

Jack changed the subject, "Do you still like tea, Doctor?"

The Doctor nodded. He supposed he could have some.

"Good, I'll try my best to make some." Jack didn't drink tea that often and he wasn't British, but he supposed he could attempt to make a cuppa.

Jack got up from the couch to make the Doctor's tea. He got out sugar, but decided not to put any milk or cream in. The Captain didn't want to try to make it with it, he never saw the Doctor put it his tea anyway.

Martha patted the couch seat where Jack was sitting, "Why don't you sit with me?"

She was trying to get him to open up, be close to people, hopefully even talk.

He complied, and sat down a bit farther than Jack had been sitting next to Martha. The Time Lord opened the book, and started to read again, assuming she'd ignore his presence. She scooted closer to him, and made an attempt to get him to talk again.

Martha looked at the book in his hand and asked, "What book are you reading?" She smiled warmly at him.

He still remained mute and, with gentle care, closed and turned the book to face her. She looked at the cover, and read the title: _Of Mice and Men._

Jack touched the Doctor's shoulder. It was a lot more bony than it should of been, he could feel his collar bone easily, "Done with your tea, Doctor."

He had flinched at the strong hand, looking at Jack. His light brown eyes were sad and unshielded. The Doctor always kept his thoughts hidden behind a mask, but those mental shields must have been shattered, along with the Doctor. Jack looked away from his eyes, and took his hand off the Doctor.

Jack felt wrong to the Doctor, and his touch actually hurt, even when he had his shields. The Time Lord had barely felt it actually, but now, vulnerable to the fixed point it hurt more than it ever had. Everyone hurt.

"Here, I wasn't sure how you liked it, but," Jack interrupted himself and handed the Doctor the mug of tea.

The mug felt warm in his hands, and it somehow comforted the Doctor.

The door to Torchwood opened, and Owen stepped in, "Traffic was hell. Sorry I'm late."

Martha and Jack got up and walked up to Owen, greeting their friend. The Doctor didn't. He stared at the tea in the cup, still warm in his hands against his lap. The Time Lord took a quick sip and set it on the small coffee table in front of him, along with the book. He laid down on the couch, making himself small, and curled in on himself. The Doctor pulled his knees to his chest with one arm, and stared at the steam of the tea. He listened to them talk and suddenly felt very alone.

_** (Doctor* = Tentoo)**_

_"Why don't you leave_Theta _with me?" The other Doctor* asked, speaking the Doctor's real name cruelly._

_ "Perfect," The Master said, with a grin, "I just finished creating a new sonic probe." The blonde haired man handed him something that looked like a sonic screwdriver, only it glowed red._

_ The Master left the dark room, leaving them alone. The Doctor was shaking and bleeding, his breathing slow and short. It hurt to breathe._

_ "I know, I know. Without both hearts beating it hurts to breathe. But that's not what I care about. The Master may know all there is to know about Time Lord physiology, but that's nothing. It takes a Doctor to break a Doctor. And I know right where it cracks," The Doctor* looked at the Time Lord's pain-filled eyes._

_ "Where's Donna, hmm? She finally leave you as well?" He asked, though he knew the answer._

_ "No. I—It wasn't her fault." The Doctor denied, remembering the day he left Rose._

_ "Oh, now I remember," the Doctor* completely ignored him, "You had to erase her memory, didn't you? Yes, couldn't bear another life lost by your own hand. Wonder why she couldn't survive..."_

_ The Doctor denied, "She was only human. Her brain couldn't hold the capacity of a Time Lord—"_

_"Honestly Theta, wonder why you regenerated. Ten will never_ shut up_," He pulled out the red sonic-like device and pushed the button as a red, electricity-like lightning shot from it, going right to the Doctor's hearts._

_ A red-orange like glow from the shot flickered inside him, his skeleton showing as it flickered four times while he screamed._

_ "I enjoy referring to you by your regeneration number, because you, this particular body are so very un-Doctor like. Your first mistake; leaving your companion to defend herself with her mother against a killer Christmas tree. Your second; the Doctor, a_Time Lord, _fell in love with a human and lost a regeneration because of it. Third; leaving your Rose with an unstable human version of yourself in a parallel universe. Honestly, you thought she could_'fix' _me, as she did you? I already hate the Doctor, but I think this is probably your most vulnerable regeneration yet. And that's coming from yourself," He taunted._

_ "You wouldn't understand," the Doctor told him._

_ "Don't like it when I refer to you in third person, do you? No, Ten, let's get back to the subject—Donna couldn't survive your mind. And it is not because you're a Time Lord. Let's take a peek, shall we?" The Doctor* reached his palms out to the Doctor's forehead._

_ The Doctor screamed at the touch._

_ "You have an unstable mind, Theta. Ah, another name I enjoy, because it's a dagger to your hearts every time you hear it," he quickly got back on topic, "Your problem, Doctor—Nightmares, regrets, grief, loneliness...self destruction."_

_ The Doctor* brought forward these dark thoughts from deep corners of the Doctor's mind, easily accessing them, tearing the mind barriers apart without effort. The Time Lord felt the smash of each shield, like glass of a mirror. The memories were unbearable compared to the feeling, though._

_ "And I intend to explore every. Single. Fear. I'm afraid you won't be running away from this one."_

Someone gently combed their fingers through his hair, "Doctor? Are you alright?"

He slowly moved his watering eyes to the voice, it belonged to Martha. Owen and Jack were behind her. The Doctor looked away, into the distance, lost and obviously hurting.

Owen spoke up, "What else have you noticed?"

Martha and Jack told Owen about the Doctor's distance in which he seemed to keep with everyone, his too-quick and worrisome obedience, and how he seemed to have gone mute. Martha also went on to describe the injuries she had discovered and treated the way she could.

The Doctor had not reacted to anyone, only managing to fall asleep in a thankfully dreamless slumber. They only woke him when Martha had cooked dinner and was preparing to set the table, Owen had said that the Time Lord needed a lot of rest.

Jack woke him by running his hands in his hair, so far it was the only way he knew how to comfort him, "Martha made dinner. You should eat something."

The Doctor got up, noticing Martha had removed his sling again while he was sleeping, but didn't put it back. He just used his other hand to hold it, noticing the IV had been removed as well.

Jack noticed the Doctor look at its absence, "She said you didn't need it while you ate dinner if you could get some fluids down."

The Captain sat him down at a chair with the dining table, telling him not to worry about anything while he put placemats and silverware neatly on it.

After dinner, which, much to Martha's displeasure the Doctor had managed to eat little of, Owen had decided they had prolonged the Doctor's examination long enough. The only three people in the room were, ironically, all doctors. Owen, for obvious reasons, and Martha to comfort the patient. The Doctor's doctor had started off by examining his ribs, and hearts. To do that, Owen had asked the Time Lord to take his jacket and shirt off, which the Doctor felt embarrassed when he noticed his emaciated frame. When Owen felt his ribs with the cold gloves, the doctor grimaced slightly when he easily felt the alien's bones. After that, Owen gave the Doctor a hospital gown to wear while he used the stethoscope to check his hearts. The concussion was now a mild headache, and sprained ankle reduced to a limp, which the Doctor thanked his superior biology for. His broken arm still had a ways to go, though, with his bone density loss.

Owen also told them that it was dangerous for his left heart to have gone this long without beating, and told Martha they should restart it immediately. Which the Doctor associated each shock to his chest with the ones he received from the Master's sonic probe.

Martha sat down next to the Time Lord as they listened to Owen's conclusion.

"You've had significant healing, Doctor. The only thing extra I recommend to Martha's treatment would be to add calcium gluconate to his IV due to his calcium deficiency." Owen told Martha as he re-bandaged the Time Lord. "But, physiology aside, you still seem to be suffering from illness of the mind. You are prone to insomnia, PTSD, and appear to suffer from anorexia."

"What about his recent decrease in volume?" Martha asked, referring to the Doctor's current mute state.

Owen took a moment before continuing, "Many of these diagnosis's are side effects. I noticed the scars on your arms, Doctor. They were self-inflicted. They were results of a common mental illness—" Owen paused again, telling him gently, "Side effects of depression."

The Doctor looked down, tears forming in his brown eyes. Martha rubbed his back gently, seeing his distress.

"Martha and I have agreed to administer anti-depressants; a pill twice a day."

The Doctor was, if possible, even more quiet and distant after they confirmed his depression.

_"Self-destructive,"_ the word kept echoing in his mind. He had been right. After all, who knew him better than himself?

Shortly after their conversation, the Doctor had been put into Jack's bed, they had decided that it would be for the best for someone close to him to watch over the Time Lord 24/7. After dressing into his pajamas, Martha had hooked him up to the IV again, giving him the calcium and nutrients he was unable to feed himself, along with an anti-depressant and sedative to help with his insomnia. He curled up underneath the blankets, gripping them tightly as he cried silently, hearing the voices again that plagued him in the dark, that whispered suicidal thoughts to him all at once every night.

The sedative didn't kick in for a long time, and when it did the thoughts didn't leave his mind.

As, Martha closed the door to Jack's room behind them, she took Owen aside.

"We can't tell Jack or the rest of the team about the scars. I don't think the Doctor could take the questions, and the last thing Jack needs is more reasons to worry about the Doctor."

Owen nodded, "Agreed."

His short reply made her realize, "What aren't you telling me?"

"The Doctor," Owen's eyes held true pity, "He was raped."


	4. Chapter 4

**So sorry this update took so long. Busy Summer and all that. I was going to add a lot more to this chapter, but decided I'd left you hanging long enough. Next update will be soon, I hope. This chapter gets really dark, so be warned. Thank you for the reviews.**

**Chapter 4: Alcohol &amp; Abuse**

—**2 days later—**

Later that night Jack and Ianto went for a drink. It was difficult for the Captain to watch a man who was normally so energetic and talkative to be so quiet and still. So, Ianto had insisted on going out to get the relief of alcohol Jack was normally accustomed to. Jack had agreed, deciding they'd go after he put the Doctor to bed. They went to the local pub and Jack ended up drinking far more than they'd planned. The Captain and Ianto actually passed out and woke 5 hours later. It was now 5:00am. Jack and Ianto were still surprisingly drunk, but decided to head back to Torchwood.

Jack returned, laying on his bed with the Doctor. Jack suddenly heard muffled sobbing and turned over to see the Time Lord shaking softly. His body was turned away from the Captain and he was curled in on himself. _He's having another nightmare._

Jack touched the back of the Doctor's shoulder and he flinched.

"Doctor." Jack shook him gently, trying to wake him.

"No, please." the Doctor cried harder.

"Come here, sweetheart." Jack pulled the Doctor to him, and the Time Lord clung to the immortal.

The Doctor's head was against his chest, slender fingers gripping Jack's shirt. The Doctor felt Jack's immortal wrongness, and ignored his animal instinct to run and hide from the fact. The Captain looked at the broken alien that clung to the first person that was within his reach to avoid touch starvation.

_What have they reduced you to?_ Jack wondered, stroking the Doctor's hair, whispering soft reassurances to the Time Lord.

After a while, the Doctor's heart rates slowed back down, and though tears continued to fall, he no longer sobbed. His shaking reduced to a minimum and instead of crying out he only whimpered. Though Jack tried to wake him more than once to relieve this wonderful man of his demons, the Doctor was only able to be released into the void of a dreamless sleep. At about 7:00am, he did wake once and opened his brilliant brown eyes a sliver to meet Jack's kind-hearted blue ones in a half-conscious state.

"Jack?" he asked, voice hoarse from his screams.

"Yes," Jack paused for a moment, "You've been crying for the past hour and a half."

"Oh." he swallowed, throat sore then, barely a whisper, "Sorry." The Doctor could tell he'd been screaming, as he had many nights before on the Tardis. At least he had someone to cling to this time. Poor Jack, he must've woken him with his screaming.

"Hey. It's alright," he half laughed at the Doctor's apology over something he had no control over, "I'd scream too if I were having a nightmare. Actually, I have—had my fair share."

_Cling_, the word rang in his ears, not really hearing Jack, and then he noticed his boney knuckles were white from wrinkling Jack's T-shirt. The Doctor loosened his grip, slowly letting go. With the loss of touch, he suddenly felt anxiety race through him. If he didn't have anything to hold on to, he began to doubt. What if he wasn't really here? What if he was still with the Master? How long until the next time the Master came to hurt him? What if _Jack_ was here to hurt him?

Would he? He knew Jack always secretly wanted him in his bed...and now he was there. Of course he would, he _had_ left the Captain stranded in his Ninth body. Who was to say he didn't want revenge? And he was all alone. That's why he'd dealt with his screams. Jack hated him.

"Doctor?" Jack asked, grasping the Time Lord's wrists, the Doctor oblivious to the new tears that had formed.

The Doctor's eyes averted down. Jack continued to look at the fallen Doctor, before looking at the wrists he was holding and noticing something he hadn't noticed in the dark of the morning two hours earlier. There were horizontal fresh deep cuts, and underneath them were scars, showing it had been done before.

"What happened while I was gone?" Jack asked the Time Lord.

Jack had left at 1:00am, according to the Doctor's time sense. Shortly after Jack had gone, the Doctor had woken in a cold sweat, breathing heavily after another nightmare. The Doctor looked around the dark void of Jack's bedroom, and panic rose in his throat as he realized he was alone.

_"Ja—," the Doctor tried to cry out but gasped as a hand covered his mouth, and another grabbed his hair, pulling his head back. _

_ "Your pathetic cries for Jack Harkness are pointless." a demonic voice in front of the bed told him as a pair of red glowing eyes faded, revealing a shadowy, ghoul-like version of the Master appeared. _

_ "You're alone," whispered another voice behind him, making him tremble._

_ As the Master walked forward, a chain appeared and restrained the Doctor's hand above his head._

_ Sitting on the end of the bed, the Master leaned toward the Doctor whispering, "I can hear your hearts pounding."_

_ The Doctor's chest was heaving as his hearts beat loudly in his ears with terror. _

_ The Master put a hand on the Doctor's chest, feeling his hearts beneath it, "Beat of four," the Master said, "I wonder if I stopped them..." the Doctor felt pain in his hearts as the pressure beneath the hand increased, "If the drums would cease?"_

_ The Doctor looked at the Master with hurt in his eyes as he smiled devilishly saying, "I'll leave you two alone." The Master ruffled his hair and left, slamming the door._

_ The Doctor closed his eyes and tried to slow his racing hearts, but his breathing sped up and he almost slipped into a panic attack. _

_ "Doctor," the voice whispered, then louder, "Doctor."_

_ The Doctor opened his eyes slowly, and he looked at the man behind him, and felt a dull headache. The hand the silhouetted figure had been using to pull on his hair let go and grabbed the Doctor's unchained hand, putting his bony fingers to his temple. The Doctor entered his mind, and what he found broke his hearts. Torchwood. Time Agent. Forever. Fixed point. Wrong. _

_ The Captain took his hand away from the Time Lord's mouth._

_ The Doctor swallowed, whimpering, "Jack."_

_ "Good boy," Jack whispered back in his ear, making the Doctor shake._

_ Suddenly he felt his animal instincts kick in, telling him to run from the wrongness of Jack Harkness. He pulled on the handcuff roughly, almost dislocating his shoulder, as he sat up. _

_ Jack got off the bed, "Always trying to _run_ away from me, Doctor." He said, tightening the restraint, cutting off the Doctor's circulation. _

_ The Doctor's current regeneration always had a weakness in his __dorsal tubercle, which made it all the more difficult when the handcuff dug into his skin, drawing blood. The Time Agent pushed the Doctor back onto the headboard with a hand, not needing much effort due to the Doctor's scrawny form. Jack got on top of the Doctor, and kissed him intimately. Tears fell down his face as Jack forced himself down his throat, making his headache pound. Jack hurt. The Time Lord had learned to ignore the pain, unless he got too close, but when he had gone into the Captain's mind his defenses had been turned to ash. _

_ "Why cry, Doctor?" Jack asked as he pulled away, "Rose never kissed you like that. She couldn't love you because you couldn't give her children. But with me—well..."_

_ Time Lords had always been loomed on Gallifrey, love and relationships forgotten. The Doctor had been shunned and looked down upon because he had been born naturally. His wife, family, and children hadn't loved him, only his granddaughter Susan showing any remote interest in him. And once he had been forced to destroy Gallifrey, he had lost all hope in being loved. Even with Rose, he had been afraid to move forward with her in fear that she might reject him for not being able to give her a family. He wasn't compatible with anyone._

_ "Struck a nerve, have I?" Jack asked, seeing the Doctor's tears. _

_ Jack pushed the Doctor on the chest, making him lay down against the pillow. _

_ Jack stroked him and felt the Doctor's ribs easily, "You're far more thin and bony than I remember." He said disappointedly, noticing how the shirt was too big for the Doctor. _

_ Jack continued to compare his own well-built form to the lanky Doctor's, as he reached for the Time Lord's belt, quickly removing his trousers. The Doctor turned his head to the side against the pillow, trembling, as he stared at the blob of the handcuff as his headache became a migraine. His eyes became wet again as he cried silently._

The Doctor slowly came back to reality from the hallucination. His eyes averted from the wall, then looked at his right arm as he became aware of the familiar pain in his wrist. The Doctor noticed the new, deep, crimson red cuts on his right arm. He noticed the bloodied razor in his left, rubbing away his tears with his arm and sniffed. He got out of Jack's bed, noticing he was wearing a grey hoodless sweatshirt with a T-shirt underneath and boxers. The Doctor washed the razor off in the sink, then put it back in the plastic part of Jack's razor, placing it back in its place in the Captain's bathroom.

The Doctor ran a gaunt hand through his hair roughly, then rolled his sleeves down, covering his right arm. He turned off the light, walking out of the bathroom, ignoring the hydrogen peroxide.

The big size of the bed wasn't comforting as he curled into a foetal position while he waited for Jack to return. Even if the Time Agent did hurt him, the pain was more bearable than loneliness.

"Doctor?" Jack asked, still looking at the Time Lord's wrist.

The Doctor slowly rolled his sleeve down and said quietly, "Nothing."

Jack took his wrist in his hands, examining the wounds.

"Have you been taking the anti-depressants?"

"Yes," then, a whisper, "No."

The Time Agent leaned over to the night stand and grabbed a bottle of pills, pouring one out into his hand. He looked over to the Time Lord and put the pill into his uninjured hand, which the Doctor swallowed dryly without water. Jack saw this and grabbed the water bottle next to the bed, tilting it, which the Doctor sipped a small amount of.

"Doctor," Jack sighed, his hand outstretched, trying to get him to drink more.

But the Time Lord just continued to stare forward, not paying attention.

Jack went to get Martha, which the doctor disinfected and wrapped his wrist and, after Jack informed her, inserted an IV into his other wrist.

After Martha left, the Doctor started to lightly pick at the tape where the IV was, and Jack gently chastised him for. After a few moments of silence between the two, Jack broke the ice.

"Can I ask why?" Jack asked, referring to his newly bandaged wrist, "What were you doing, Doctor?" Jack pushed gently.

The Doctor looked at him for a moment, before averting his eyes down again, "Counting." He scratched the IV tape nervously.

Jack put a hand over the Doctor's tenderly, stopping him without moving his eyes from the Time Lord, "What were you counting?" He kept his voice soft.

The Doctor could only get a word out, "Gallifrey." It was supposed to mean home for him, and he longed desperately to see the planet again. Even though all he had ever received there had been rejection, hurt,_ pain. _It was where the self-loathing had began, and yet he wanted with all of his being to see Gallifrey, and his family again.

Though it had been only a word, Jack understood. _He had been counting everyone that had burned during the Time War_. And since the Doctor had been the last one, no one had been around to tell him, "It's okay." No one had ever told him it wasn't his fault.

"You still don't deserve to hurt yourself. No one does—God,_ especially _you, Doctor. After that day, you have devoted your life to saving people. You have saved many more than you could have ever burned on Gallifrey. You are the kindest and most merciful, and forgiving man I have ever met." Jack tried to tell him.

"Penance," the Doctor interrupted, "I deserve penance." He believed his debt of genocide could never be paid. The only time he felt he was on his way to redemption was when he bled.

Later that night, Jack had gone to get the Doctor's pyjamas from the Tardis. Once he had found the pair, he headed back to Torchwood and given them to the Doctor, who went into the bathroom to dress. The Doctor's brown eyes averted from the mirror while he undressed and redressed into the pyjamas. When the Doctor was done, he felt mortified when he realised the trousers didn't fit as they had the last time he had worn them. He tried to tie them tighter, but to no avail. The Doctor had lost a lot of weight.

The Doctor felt his own stomach and waist, disappointed when he felt his pelvis easily. He pinched his stomach and had trouble doing so, when he found that he had barely any fat. His abdomen was beyond flat. The Doctor looked in the mirror, seeing his obvious collar bone and pale skin and almost punched the mirror. He pulled on Jack's grey sweatshirt over his own nightshirt, hoping it would help to hide his emaciated frame.

He left the bathroom, and curled up next to Jack in the bed.

"I see you like my clothes," Jack noticed he was still wearing his sweatshirt, smiling.

Jack's smile faded when the Doctor didn't reply, rubbing the Time Lord's back gently, feeling the Doctor's shoulder blades. Jack got up from his sitting position on the bed, heading near the door, turning off the light. He heard the Doctor whimper. Jack walked to the bedside, pulling something out of the drawer of the nightstand. He got back into the bed and the Doctor clung onto the Captain's shirt underneath the blankets, trembling. Jack stroked the Time Lord's hair with tenderness, and put the sonic screwdriver (on a harmless setting) in front of the Doctor's eyes terrified eyes. The Doctor took it from him with care, his eyes silently thanking him a thousand times over, and held the screwdriver to him like a teddy bear.

He held Jack and the sonic close to him for the rest of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**First off, thanks for the love I've received from you guys in the reviews. You guys are real nice. Apologies for this time and for future delays in updates. I was an unfortunately very busy 9th grader this year. I come up with ideas for this story all the time; it's just hard to format those thoughts into coherent sentences and conversations.**

**Now that it's Summer, though, updates should come quicker. I will be working on filming the play the ****_Heathers_**** with my friend by ourselves (no funds, just our own money), so that will keep us busy, but shouldn't affect my updates ^-^.**

**Also, a slight warning for upcoming debates about the existence of God. As we know the Doctor is an atheist so...Sorry, I recently read ****_Horns_**** by Joe Hill as well. ****_Perks of Being a Wallflower_**** is also really good.**

**Here's a playlist I made for this story: /mindlessriddle/sad-eyes**

**+¤×¤+||•****》****Chapter 5: Eating Problems**

"For who would bear the whips and scorns of time... When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin?"

"Feeling Shakespearian this morning, Doctor?" Jack asked, sitting in a comfortable chair near the bed the Doctor lay in, not looking up from his novel he was engrossed in.

It was barely sunrise, the Doctor had been lying awake in bed, deep in thought staring at the ceiling.

Neither said anything for a few moments, so Jack closed his book, got up and sat down again on the Doctor's bed. He turned his head to look at his friend, but the Doctor continued to stare at the ceiling.

"How are you feeling?" No answer. "Are you hungry?"

"I met him once, with Martha." The Time Lord replied, ignoring the question completely.

"What was he like?" Jack asked.

"...Happy." The Doctor answered, finally making eye contact with the immortal, tears in his eyes.

"Are you?" Jack asked, wiping the tears from his eyes with a gentle thumb.

"I'm on anti-depressants, Jack." The Doctor stated factually.

* * *

In Jack's opinion keeping the Doctor cooped up at Torchwood would only contribute to his unhealthy state of mind. So, in hopes of cheering the Time Lord up and getting some food into his almost non-existent stomach he took the Doctor out for Breakfast.

"What looks good?" Jack asked, after watching the Time Lord glance at the menu, his hand holding the menu in the air in front of him while leaning his head in his other hand.

"Dunno. Don't normally do Breakfast. Usually Donna cooks something up for me." The Doctor replied, still looking at the menu thoughtfully.

"Well, what are you hungry for? There's eggs, pancakes, French toast...whatever you fancy." Jack suggested hopefully.

"Banana Pancakes sound brilliant. Do they have those?" The Doctor put the menu down and glanced at Jack.

"I would hope so. Tea as well?" Jack asked knowingly with a grin.

"Yup." The Doctor smiled a little smile back, popping the p.

* * *

When their waitress arrived, and Jack made sure to eye-flirt when she did, Jack placed his order.

"I'll have French toast with hash browns and a coffee. He'll have banana pancakes with Earl Grey." Jack told her happily, with a smile.

"Sounds good," she scribbled down the order, "Only we don't normally put banana in our pancakes. It'll be extra, if that's alright with you."

The Doctor moved his gaze from the waiter to the immortal nervously, "I-it's okay, Jack. I'm fine with just a cuppa."

Jack turned to the waiter, still smiling, "It's not a problem, Doctor. How much?"

"€25. Sorry about that, I don't make the rules." The waiter stated, smiling back at Jack.

"Really, Jack. I-I'm not hungry." The Doctor stuttered.

"It's quite alright. We have plenty of quid to go around," Jack winked at the waitress.

"Perfect." The waitress left.

The Doctor was very uneasy, "You should call her back, I can't pay back that kind of money. I don't have to eat."

"You need to stop starving yourself, Doctor." Jack whispered. "I can't expect you to take care of yourself, so someone has to feed you." Jack smiled, "Also, it's my quid, you don't have to worry about it. Okay?"

"Yeah." The Doctor said quietly, feeling reprimanded. He eyed the table, tracing the placemat's pattern.

* * *

The Doctor inhaled sharply suddenly.

_The Doctor sat on the floor, in tight black jeans, black jacket and a loose black T-shirt. A collar was around his neck, almost choking him, the leash in the Master's hand who sat in the booth above him with his business partners. They were in a bar. The music was too loud for the Doctor's Time Lord ears, while it seemed to be fine for the Master's. He supposed if it would be uncomfortable for the Doctor that it would be worth the annoyance for himself._

_"What can I get you fellas?" A waitress appeared, wearing revealing clothes._

_The Master eyed her happily, and ordered for himself and his friends. They all ordered some type of alcohol._

_"What about him?" The waitress asked, eyeing the Doctor._

_"The pet is too expensive to feed. He's learned to starve." The Master looked at the emaciated Doctor sitting at his feet._

_The waitress got to the Doctor's level and stroked his hair, and moved her hand to cup the side of his face, "You must be a good boy."_

_Her cleavage was close to his face, he moved his miserable eyes to her own, uninterested._

_The Other Doctor spoke from next to the Master, "Forgive us, he's asexual. We're working on it."_

_The waitress stroked his hair again, tenderly this time, and put other hand on his chest. She then moved her hand inside the pocket of his jacket, leaving a candy bar, unnoticed by the Master._

_The Doctor opened his mouth and began to say a 'Thank you' in his unused voice, but the Master saw him attempt to speak and tightened the collar, choking him._

_When the waitress left the Master slapped him hard on the cheek for speaking without his permission._

* * *

"Doctor?" Jack brought the Doctor back from the throws of his time with the Master.

"Hmm?"

"The food is here." Jack replied.

"Oh..." The Doctor looked at his plate. "Sorry," he said in a quiet voice, looking up at the waitress only long enough to say, "Thank you." Then looked down.

The waitress looked at the Doctor worriedly for a moment, then left.

* * *

Jack was almost done with his meal when he noticed that the Doctor hadn't touched his food. The Time Lord had his head in his hands with his elbows on the table.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked sensitively.

The Doctor didn't move from his position, "...No." He replied quietly.

"Maybe you'd feel better if you tried some of your pancakes."

"I'm not hungry, Jack."

"Do you want to take it home? You can eat it when you get hungry later."

The Doctor ran his fingers from covering his eyes to ruffle his hair before pushing his plate to Jack, "You can have it if you want."

"I got it for you, though."

No answer.

Jack took one of the Doctor's hands and rubbed the inside of his palm with his thumb, "Please eat it, Doctor."

"I can't."

"How come?" Jack asked curiously.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?" Jack pushed.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You can tell me. It'll help me understand and then we can fix it." Jack said sensitively.

"Jack, please—" The Doctor had tears in his eyes.

"Would you like to take that to go, sir?"

Before he could start sobbing, the Doctor ran into the bathroom, covering his face.

"Is he okay?" The waitress asked.

* * *

The Doctor locked himself inside a stall, curled up with his head and knees to the floor, his hands pushing his head to the floor hardly. He was uncontrollably sobbing.

The Doctor screamed against the ground. He had to ruin everything. Jack was going to be angry with him now; he hadn't eaten when Jack had told him to, he had wasted his money, and now he'd embarrassed Jack.

"So bloody stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" He banged his head against the ground to the words.

He stopped slowly only because his hands had grown tired. He was crying softly now.

* * *

Jack walked into the bathroom with the waitress, "He's severely depressed." Jack whispered.

The waitress nodded, understanding.

"Doctor, come out, please." Jack cooed gently.

"Leave me alone. You can't fix me."

They were quiet for a couple of moments, the Doctor still sniffling.

"Have you taken your medication?" Jack had a feeling.

"Why do you care?"

"Because I love you." Jack shocked the Doctor for a moment.

"You can't love me." The Doctor was adamant.

Jack looked at the waitress, out of ideas.

"God loves you," the waitress proposed.

"He can't love me."

"Why not?" the waitress challenged.

"Because I'm broken."

"He loves you anyway."

"He doesn't exist. If he did...he wouldn't love me. The Devil would. Because I destroy everyone that I love. So it's better that I'm unlovable." The Doctor was leaning his head against the door now, still kneeling.

"I love you."

The Doctor chuckled hollowly, "You just met me."

"Doctor, come out." Jack was worried.

"Why?" The Doctor was monotone, "Are you afraid I'll kill myself?"

Jack motioned and the waitress gave him the keys.

Jack had a sad look on his face, "Yes."

Jack unlocked the door to the stall.

"Your head's bleeding."

The Doctor was silent.

Jack reached in his pocket and handed the Doctor two pills.

"They don't work." The Doctor said, but took them anyway.

Jack stood up to leave, but the Doctor was still kneeling on the floor.

"Jack, could...could you...h-hug me?" The Doctor was shaking with sobs again.

Jack hugged him and the Doctor clung to him like a lifeline.

The immortal somehow knew what he needed, "I really do love you, you know?"

The Doctor buried his face in Jack's shoulder and the Captain rubbed his back softly.

* * *

The Doctor fell asleep on the drive home and Jack carried him to his bed.

As soon as he laid the Doctor down, the Doctor grabbed his sleeve, half asleep. "Stay...please?"

"Okay." Jack got into the bed.

The Time Lord curled up against him and fell back asleep.

* * *

When Martha walked into the room, Jack was still awake. He put a finger to his lips, and whispered, "He's sleeping."

"I think you make him feel safe...and loved." Martha smiled at the Time Lord.

"He still wouldn't eat when I asked him to." Jack didn't believe her.

"We need to be patient with him. He's still adjusting." Martha stroked the Doctor's hair.

"He's going to starve to death, Martha."

"I won't let that happen." Martha assured him.


End file.
